endofdaylightfandomcom-20200214-history
Anara
Character Sheet: Here! Wishlist: 1) Wand of inflict minor / light wounds 2) Upgrade to Lightning Comp Longbow +1 3) Mithril Breastplate +1 4) Lesser(?) bracers of archery Wishlist for Brendam: 1) Scrolls and such! 2) Maybe a pearl of power Background: Popular belief is that long before the scar left by Azrial, when the world was still young, the Gods treated it as a canvas of creation. It was from their works and mutual agreement that trees took hold in the Earth, water flowed through aquifers and streams, and that people walked the Earth. Some deities, however, sought to ruin the world by destroying the works of others, introducing concepts such as plague and natural disasters to the young realm. Others still had no such malicious intent, but sought not to cooperate in creation. The long forgotten deity known as Akaraia was one such being. '' '' His people, known as the Kairaan, were similar to the humans that populated the western lands. Confined to a small desert continent separated from the mainlands by a great sea, they flourished and prospered even after their patron deity faded from existence. Their tale would have remained a peaceful one had the King known as Alesandro never came into being. Proud and ambitious, the great King would lead a war spanning fifty years in an effort to expand his territory and elevate his people to greatness; a campaign of terror and genocide that would consume many, many lives in the process. Though at first successful in conquering a large section of the mainland, the combined efforts of the middle kingdoms proved to be enough to force the Kairaan back to their sands. '' '' More blood would be spilled in their native land as the campaign turned defensive - until finally the King was slain. In response for their actions, their homeland was cursed; a punishment brought forth through a combination of mortal magic and divine assistance. The sunlight that they had loved and prospered under would shine upon their lands with a heat more intense than it had ever been. Their lakes and rivers would all dry up, making water all the scarcer. The creatures of the sands mutated and changed, becoming dangerous abominations of what they had once been. Any who died or had lost their life in the desert fighting were reborn as undead monstrosities that sought out the living. '' '' The Kairaan did not escape this curse either; their eyes were made blind to the harsh sun, and the healing magic they had once relied upon and wielded now burned their flesh. Under such conditions, the survivors would have quickly died out. However, for reasons unknown, the Goddess Solanil seemed to pity them. '' '' Working with the moon, she crafted for the shattered people an artifact for their survival. Though it appeared to be nothing more than an obsidian lantern plated with fine silver, when lit it cast a black flame that served as their salvation. For hundreds of miles, the land around the lantern would become cast in a comforting veil darkness. Water would be able to once more collect and pool, and the Kairaan would be able to see. The lantern also happened to pulse with a soothing coolness that was comforting to the people; an aura of faint necrotic energy that extended the distance of its 'glow'. This revitalizing power helped the Kairaan to carry on despite the odds, while seemingly placating the undead and fiends of the land into becoming less aggressive than they typically were. '' '' Time would move on, and the Kairaan were eventually forgotten in the history of the world. To any passing sailors, their lands would appear desolate and ominous; an expanse of dark sand that went on for as far as the eye could see, a wasteland where the very air seemed corrupt and off putting. Similarly, the younger generations were taught that outside of their lands lay nothing but a grueling expanse for fear of repeating the past. As time went on, this became to be an accepted fact, for all they would know outside of the comfort of Solanil's lantern was a dangerous world fueled by a fiery sun. '' '' Leaving the lantern in their former coastal capital of Saranda, the people would become more or less nomadic as they wandered the sands in search of pockets of fresh water. Even with Solanil's blessing the wastelands were tough; the essentials of life were scarce. In order to survive, it was necessary to form a strict style of government. The chieftain would control all of his people, and his word was final; there was no dissent. Everything from population control, the various occupations of citizens, and the management of resources were dictated by the leader. '' '' '' '' Anara of the Gray Sands held one of the more important occupations; that of a water hunter. It was her duty to scour the surrounding wasteland for any pockets of nourishment before their current source ran dry; something that typically occurred in only a matter of weeks. As the land was still dotted with undead and beasts, the hunters typically did not live very long; any who made it into their thirties were considered blessed, and given a place of honor within the tribe. '' '' It would have likely been her destiny to die on an excursion, but that wouldn't have made for a very good story. Instead, one afternoon, while out hunting a fair distance away from the tribe, the unimaginable happened. In a single apocalyptic instant the soothing monochrome that blanketed the continent inverted into the columns of sunlight all of the Kairaan feared. Their eyes scorched and unused to the light, the band was forced to wait until nightfall before they had the opportunity to return - agonizing hours that many thought would never end. Upon arriving to their tribe's encampment they found the people had already moved on - apparently fleeing to the capital city in order to track the source of this sudden nightmare. '' '' Facing hellish conditions and a long lag time, the hunters nonetheless pursued, thankful that the beasts of the sands seemed to be as confused for the time being as they were. Fearing for the worst, it was a relief to see that most were in fact still alive. Shaken and rattled, the survivors hid from the sunlight during the day in the ruins of their once great city; frantically searching for the lantern that had been their salvation. The chieftain, it seemed, had fallen ill around the very same time - a sickness rooted in a powerful curse, according to the shamans. With the hated sun once more hanging over the Kairaan, their leader comatose, and Solanil's lantern no where in sight, a deep and widespread panic took the people. '' '' It is perhaps for that reason that no one sought to question the 'miracles' that came shortly afterward. Claiming to have been visited by the goddess in a dream, a young man known by the name of Amen produced three artifacts that seemed to promise hope - a mason jar that would always pour full of clear water, a mighty platter upon which feasts with delectables never before seen nor tasted could be summoned into being, and a wand that could conjure thick clouds to blot out the sun. Seen in some ways as being an even greater blessing than the lantern had been before, the people blindly appointed him as the new chieftain - naively believing that the goddess had indeed decided once more to smile upon them. '' '' Anara, of course, felt no differently; it was an incredible relief that life could continue to flourish in the deserts, and the fact that their new leader was favored by the divines was viewed by her as a remarkable omen. Even more, it would seem, the risks she and the other hunters took facing the sands could finally come to an end. With the jar and platter, it was no longer necessary for any to hunt; and the walls of their once and present capital served to be far more defensible than the nomadic camps they'd resided inside. '' '' And so, the people prospered. For the first time, the Kairaan were able to focus away from the hardships of the sands, instead focusing on rebuilding the capital to an image mirroring its former splendor. '' '' Still, life was not without its challenges. The biggest of these facing any of them was adjusting to the new lifestyle that had been granted to them; living in the city underneath a new and radical ruler was such a large cultural disconnect that it was a struggle for many to find their place in this new society. The community feeling that had once existed was rapidly being phased out into individual existence as the chieftain implemented new rules and regulations seemingly on whimsy. This resulted in a sort of moral and social decay that came from new living conditions, and the introduction of social concepts like currency as a measure of worth. Anara, once filled with a strong sense of duty, soon found herself with neither a calling nor purpose within this society; learning the trade of tailoring as a way to endure the taxes and stipends of daily life. '' '' This rift had been exacerbated even more when the chieftain extended his hand to outsiders, people from beyond the sands - the very thought of such people existing bringing both shock and curiosity to all. Though it was unknown how these connections were initially established, these new people brought with them fascinating goods in exchange for trinkets and artifacts that had been salvaged from the wastes. When the Kairaan had no more to give, their benefactors began to negotiate with alliances and bodies instead; Amen's word binding his people to fight with and assist these strange people should they require aid, even as he handed over debtors, strong men, and children for use as slave labor; all so that his personal throne may be all the more opulent. '' '' It wasn't until the old chieftain finally passed that any action was taken. The shaman who had been tending to the dying man gathered a few of the former hunters together in secrecy, speaking of visions and omens he'd gleaned from the dying man's aura - all telling of dark times ahead. Though he had no supporting evidence, nor did he wish to insult the current chief, his intuition seemed to suggest that these newcomers had been the ones who had cursed the old man and brought forth the hardships they had faced. Although he was called a traitor of the highest order by most present, there were still those among the group that had become convinced to at least look into the matter; the eldest hunter being one of those. It was his persuasion, the man who's word she valued above all but the chief, that tempted Anara to join the expedition; if only to silence all dissenters to the current leadership. '' '' The band was to travel with the foreign ships when they were to depart, underneath the disguise of ambassadors. As those black flags inlaid with silver crescents rose and the ships left shore, things seemed to be going rather well. If only they'd continued that way. Having been tipped off by those against the plan, an ambush had been set up on the third night of travel - just far enough away from the shore to prevent any possibility of a body floating to land. Systematically the Kairaan hunters were slaughtered in their sleep, their throats cut. It would have been the same for Anara, surely, had the man bunking in the room next to hers had not cried out. '' '' It was enough time to prepare by waiting in the doorway - acting blindly by instinct, she tackled her would be attacker as the portal opened before attempting to strangle him with his own necklace; using the string as a sort of makeshift garrote. Alas, before she'd gotten very far in her panicked frenzy another man who had been accompanying him came upon her from behind and stabbed her thrice; the necklace she'd been holding onto snapping and remaining stuck in a death grip. Her body had then been dragged to the deck where she was tossed overboard like the others - left for dead. '' '' Fate can be a little strange sometimes. As it turns out, the charm that she'd broken off was a protective one often used by sailors should they fall overboard. Though it did nothing for hunger nor pain, it had the power to allow one to breathe underwater and drink from the salt sea as if it were the clearest stream. Gravely injured and struck with the shock of seeing her dead friends surrounding her, the pendant nonetheless allowed her to hold on just long enough... '' '' ''For eventually a passing merchant vessel unaligned with her would-be-murderers sailed by, finding her in a state of near death - a credit to her seemingly limitless luck. Not exactly unconditional benefactors, they'd nonetheless helped her get back onto her feet before assigning a little bit of brute work on their decks. Still wishing to find out more about those manipulating her people, Anara is stuck for the moment; to go back to her homelands would earn her a traitor's death. The only true solution is to find the lantern, so the pretenders claim may be weakened. Before she can do anything, however, it seems it will be necessary to earn some money first - rumors of needed mercenaries drawing her to Nice. '' Category:PCs